Why Outdoor Sessions Saved My Love for Photography

Moving Out of the Studio Didn't Just Change My Work — It Changed How I See Light, Life, and My Craft

I think it's connected to my deep love for culture and heritage. Moving outdoors made me fall in love with this city again — exploring it as if I just moved here. The environment informs my creativity. It really sparks this new desire to showcase families and people within it. It's anchored in seeing beauty in every corner, in the desire to explore the streets of Hong Kong, or wherever I am. There's an excitement attached to that.

Why I Opened a Studio in the First Place

When I opened the studio years ago, I'm not going to lie — I was not confident in my technical skills. That's why I opened it. I didn't know what to do with whatever light Hong Kong gives me. The unpredictability of that could throw me off. To be fair, I was a very new photographer. I just didn't know what to do with it.

But now, as I've learned more and gained more experience, leaning towards the light — trying to see it in different ways, in different places — has definitely helped shift my creativity. Being able to see things that not everyone else could see is also something that changed my approach. I just have more fun with it. More fun with the light, more fun with the environment.

While I definitely loved my studio — that was my baby — it could also be monotonous because it's just one space. The shifting scenery outside keeps every session so much more different and dynamic. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm going to get. And that's also something that has enriched my outdoor sessions.

What's Actually Bringing the Joy Back

Lately, I've been locking into my creativity in a whole new way. I'm doing a mentorship with someone amazing, and one thing she told me was this: just pick up your phone. It doesn't have to be anything special. Don't edit. Don't overthink. Just observe what gives you joy as you go about your routine. So now, whenever I'm out—or even at home—I take photos of things that light me up. Nothing polished. Just what catches my eye. It's been helping me see differently, to find beauty wherever I already am.

I'm also doing another mentorship—this one for writing. And while writing is completely different from photography, I've found it informs my creativity and artistry in unexpected ways. On a personal level, with my own healing, it's given me so much. But I'll be honest: writing feels harder than photography. I think it's because writing is so transparent. When someone reads your words, it's basically your soul on the page. With a photo, the viewer can interpret it however they want—there's a little distance, a little mystery. But writing? It's just so personal.

Still, doing both—moving between these different practices—has definitely brought so much joy back to my artistry. One doesn't replace the other. They feed each other. And that's what I'm locking into: not perfection, not outcomes, just the creative act of noticing, capturing, and expressing what feels true.

Never Say Never

Do I still see myself going back to a studio? You know, never say never. I could always open another one. That's the beauty of it—nothing is set in stone. I can always change my mind, and that's what creativity really is. It's not a fixed formula. It's whatever speaks to you in the moment.

Every setting, every environment has its own magic to give—to a client, to the artist, to anyone doing the work. A living room has different light than a field. A studio has different energy than a kitchen table. None is better. They're just different. And I've learned to listen to what each space offers.

I'm very, very happy that I can shoot anywhere I want to now. After so many years of doing this, I've grown more confident that I can create something beautiful regardless of the location. But here's what I've really come to understand: the location was never the whole story. The real magic is in the collaboration—between me, the client, the light, the moment. A studio doesn't make the art. Showing up with an open heart and a willing eye does. So whether I'm in a rented space, someone's living room, or a quiet corner at golden hour—I try to be exactly where I am. Because creativity isn't about where you stand. It's about what you notice when you stop trying to control everything.